


Kinda like a strobe light

by vintagegore



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen, i fuckin love that little shit god bless his heart, i never see matthews in fics, junior is mentioned, matthews is mentioned, not that a wanna write him in one but just, poor asshole, poor boring white bread son of a bitch, when is he not mentioned goddamn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-28 07:59:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5084125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vintagegore/pseuds/vintagegore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tucker wakes up at 3 am and makes no effort whatsoever to go back to sleep before he has to get up again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kinda like a strobe light

 

 

What’s nice about Chorus is that it’s full of people. Blood Gulch and the desert were isolated and distant; no one called those places ‘home’.

Chorus, however, is a home and not a battlefield. The cities hold purpose and aren’t there for the soul purpose of simulation. To Tucker, that makes it safer than anywhere else. He’s been stationed in Armonia to be seen, to let people know that the fighting is done, which is why he’s not too happy to be up at 3 am when work is in 5 hours.

Naturally, instead of trying to get as much sleep as possible, like an _adult_ , he decides the best option is to drink as much coffee as possible, pull an all-nighter, and hope he doesn’t crash until lunchtime, _like someone who is constantly mistaken for a very small 18 year old._

Tucker raps his fingers on the granite countertop while perusing the selection of exactly two kinds of coffee. Hot damn. The coffee machine makes that awful straining noise while it pours out a substance that 10 years ago would’ve been traumatizing. Now it’s just an annoying noise and liquid addiction.

When he finally gets coffee cup one out of forty-three for the night, he wanders the halls of the building. Kimball said it was just an apartment building before hell broke loose and Tucker has to agree it certainly does give off that ‘soulless and void of sincerity’ apartment vibe. It has a small lobby area with some couches, a table with magazines, and a TV, switched on and playing some documentary about zombie ants and mushrooms. Something like that. Tucker looks over to the couch where Palomo sits in his pajamas, holding on to the remote like a fuckin’ rosary. He’s wide awake and biting at his nails absentmindedly.

Tucker steps into the kid’s view, “Palomo? It’s three in the morning, dude.”

Palomo startles and frantically wipes drool from his mouth; his fingers are in shreds from the chewing. Tucker takes note of red eyes and crusty nose.

“Captain Tucker! I’m sorry, seriously. I’m heading to bed right now, sir!”

Tucker hates being a dad. He hates seeing a kid upset and then, against every fiber of his being, daring to ask what’s wrong. He hates it because right now he’s putting the coffee on the table, sitting down next to Palomo, and opening his dumbass mouth and-

  
“You okay, Palomo?” _God fucking damn it._

Palomo stutters for a moment, “N-Nothing!  I’m _fine_! I-“ he doesn’t continue much longer before he lets out a sigh of defeat and slumps into the couch. “How’d you know?”

Tucker smiles a little, “My kid does this kinda thing all the time. The both of you project emotions like a strobe light.”

“O-Oh.” Palomo pulls his knees to his chest and takes in a big breath, scrunching his eyes shut.

“Hey. That’s a good thing! Keeps people like you and him from trying to shoulder the weight of the world by yourselves.”

Palomo gives a poorly feigned smile that reads ‘ _please stop talking when you know I have no choice but to listen’_ , which is a wonderful cue for Tucker to get to the point.

“You need to tell me what’s wrong.”

Palomo stares at the tiled floor and mutters, “I’m worried about Matthews.”

“Does he know that?”

“Uh- what?”

“You should tell him. If you’re worried just ask how he’s doing. Tell him you’re worried. Even if he says ‘me too’, that’s a thousand times better than staying up until 3 am worrying alone.”

Palomo continues his staring contest with the floor, but now he looks a little hopeful. “Thanks, captain.”

Tucker pushes himself off the couch and grabs his mug from the table.

“Don’t mention it.”

“Really, you’re kind of amazing.”

“Stop mentioning it.”

Palomo’s voice jumps an octave and he returns to his usual friendly idiot approach, “Hey wait I didn’t know you were a dad? How? I thought you were gay-“

“ _Goodnight_ , Palomo.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> in case you're wondering, tucker is always trans in these fics. if u ever look at one of my fics and ask 'huh i wonder if tuckers trans' lemme just confirm right now that he is 100% trans forever and ever one nation under god amen


End file.
